


In Another World

by FlirtyFroggy



Series: What You Want [3]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: AU, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlirtyFroggy/pseuds/FlirtyFroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He could feel Rafa’s smile against his cheek as he whispered again in his ear as he had at the net. “Congratulations, David”. Two simple words that Rafa somehow filled with promise.</i>
</p><p>What could have happened after their Rome 2013 quarterfinal match.</p><p>Companion piece to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/808222">Control</a> and sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/800781/">Next Time</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Another World

**Author's Note:**

> So, even before they'd played this match my brain was already writing fic about it and, being my brain, it was writing two versions: one if David lost and one if he won (I'm an eternal optimist I guess). David lost but my brain wouldn't let go of the other fic and so obviously I had to write it. I've basically written an AU fic of my own fic. Because somewhere in the space-time continuum there's got to be a universe where David wins, right?
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not meant to imply anything about any actual people or their lives. It's just for fun.

David couldn’t keep the grin from his face. He knew he should be more Rafa-esque and gracious in victory but he couldn’t help it. Besides, Rafa was smiling almost as much as he was, signing tennis balls and programmes beside him as though he hadn’t just lost a gruelling three hour match. He tried to ignore the way Rafa kept darting glances at him, but he could no more do that than he could stop smiling. The look Rafa gave him before finally disappearing down the tunnel set his adrenaline spiking all over again and for a moment he was distracted, pen hovering in mid-air as he watched Rafa’s retreating back, before he snapped out of it and turned back to scribble something indecipherable on yet another giant yellow ball. 

It seemed to take him forever to get back to the locker room, waylaid as he was every three steps by well-wishers: fans, journalists, ball kids and other random people of indeterminate function. He wondered if he’d lost track of where he was and had just won Roland Garros without realising it. He had never seen such a reaction to a simple Masters quarter-final victory before. But there was nothing simple about this victory and he knew it. And so did everyone else.

The first thing he saw when he entered the locker room was Javi shaking hands with Uncle Toni and sharing a smile. The second thing was a blur of tanned limbs, sweaty hair and white teeth as Rafa threw his arms round him. David almost lost his balance and he pushed back against Rafa to steady himself. He could feel Rafa’s smile against his cheek as he whispered again in his ear as he had at the net. “Congratulations, David”. Two simple words that Rafa somehow filled with promise.

“Rafael, you are aware that he just beat you, yes? You were playing against each other, not together.” Uncle Toni was still smiling, and he came forward to congratulate David as Rafa released him. The next few minutes were filled with David being congratulated by Rafa’s whole team as well as his own. He was very touched by their genuine pleasure at his success, and he smiled and thanked them as he should. But he couldn’t take his eyes off Rafa, who had moved quietly away from the group and was stripping off his kit in a very decisive manner. He gave David that look again and strode off to the showers.

He turned to his team and found he had no idea what to say to them. Fortunately, his coach knew him well and knew when he wanted to be alone, even if he chose not to know the reason. “Shower, David. Take your time. Then the ice bath. And you need to eat.” David nodded, toed off his clay-covered shoes and headed straight for the showers without bothering to get undressed. 

Once again Rafa had hardly let him get through the door before he had his arms around him, but this time his hands buried themselves in David’s hair and he was kissing him as if his life depended on it. “That was amazing,” Rafa said, pausing for breath.

“I know,” David said and pulled him back in for another kiss before realising what he’d said. “I mean, not me.” Another kiss. “Us. We were amazing.” 

Rafa laughed. “Yes, us.” He walked backwards, pulling David further into the room until hot water poured down on both of them. He leaned against the wall, toying with the hem of David’s now drenched t-shirt. “And you.” He tipped his head forward to whisper against David’s lips, voice barely audible above the sound of the water. “You were amazing.”

The kiss this time was gentle, Rafa cupping his face as though he held something delicate and precious. David returned the pressure, licking into Rafa’s mouth, sucking gently on his lower lip.

Part of him wanted to stay like that, to spend hours leisurely exploring Rafa’s mouth and running his hands up and down the contours of his back. But adrenaline still thrummed through his body and he could feel his erection growing in his soaking wet shorts and Rafa’s answering hardness pressing against his hip, and soon their kiss grew deep and breathless.

Rafa grabbed him by the front of his t-shirt and pushed him up against the wall, tearing his mouth away from David’s in order transfer his attention to his neck. David leaned his head back and closed his eyes, his fingers digging into the solid muscle of Rafa’s shoulders and down his back as he felt teeth scrape his wet skin. His hips bucked of their own accord and he groaned as the movement pressed his erection hard against Rafa’s thigh. The sound Rafa made was the most wonderful thing David had ever heard, so he rocked his hips forward again, and then again. Rafa bent his knees, bringing their hips to the same level, and David thrust forward once more. The feel of Rafa’s cock hard against his, only the wet fabric of David’s shorts and underwear between them, drove out whatever last shreds of propriety and sense remained in David’s mind. They ground against each other, seeking only more and more friction, the hiss and splash of water on tile drowning out the grunts and moans they didn’t bother to stifle.

David could feel familiar, delicious tension building in him when Rafa pulled away, breathing hard, his forehead resting against David’s. “Not like this,” he said, shaking his head. “Not like this.” And he stepped away, letting go of the grip he had had on David’s waist.

David stared at him, trying to make sense of this development through the haze of his arousal. Rafa was the one who had started this whole thing. If he was rejecting him now he –

David’s mouth went dry as Rafa sank slowly to the floor in front of him. He licked his lips. “Rafa, your knees.” It was only a token protest.

“My knees, my problem,” Rafa said. He reached out and ran his hand up and down the front of David’s shorts, pressing harder with each stroke. David gave a strangled moan and slumped back against the wall, his eyes falling closed once more. He forced them open again when he felt Rafa pulling at the waistband of his shorts. He didn’t want to miss this.

Rafa peeled his wet clothing slowly down his legs, kissing his way down one thigh and then the other, slipping his socks off when he reached his feet and throwing the lot into heap on the floor. His t-shirt was pushed up out of the way, clinging around his ribcage. Rafa’s head was level with David’s twitching cock, his hands on David’s hips, pressing him to the wall. He stayed like that for what seemed an eternity, his mouth hovering near the tip, always seeming about to touch it but never quite doing so.

“Rafa, for God’s sake.” Rafa chuckled, gave David the most wicked smile he had ever seen and, without preamble, took David’s cock fully into his mouth, as far as it would go. “Jesus Christ. Fuck.” He felt Rafa laugh around him and he cracked his head against the wall at his back. He barely even noticed. He could feel the tension building in him again, his hips snapping forward, his fingers tangling in Rafa’s hair, gripping his shoulders. He looked down, watching himself fucking Rafa’s mouth. He tried not to but he couldn’t help it, and Rafa didn’t seem to mind; he took his hands away from David’s hips and let him do it. And then it didn’t take long, not long at all, before David was coming into Rafa’s mouth, watching him swallow it down, watching him pull back slowly and lick his lips and give him that wicked smile again.

Rafa stood up and pressed himself against him, pinning David to the wall. David was pretty sure that was the only thing keeping him upright. Rafa’s erection pressed insistently against his hip and he whimpered slightly. David tilted his head to look at him. “Didn’t you…?” Rafa shook his head.

“I’ve spent enough nights getting myself off thinking about you. You think I’m going to do it now, when you can do it for me?”

David’s breath caught in his throat. “Yes,” he whispered. Rafa stared at him. He stood on tiptoe and placed a gentle kiss to the side of Rafa’s mouth. “Do it,” he said against the skin there. “I want to watch you.” Rafa whimpered again and reached down. He kept his gaze on David’s face as he started working his own cock, his knuckles brushing against David’s hip with every stroke. His eyes were darker than David would have thought possible, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted. It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen.

He wrapped an arm around Rafa’s waist to support him as his pace grew faster and his head fell back. Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed Rafa’s exposed throat before raising his head again and reaching down with his free hand. Rafa gave a ragged cry as David’s hand joined his, their fingers entwined around his cock. One, two, three strokes and Rafa was arching against him, his body taut, come splattering both their stomachs.

Rafa sagged against him and David finally slid down the wall, pulling Rafa to him and burying his face in his hair. Rafa’s heart was thudding in his chest, racing at a pace to match David’s and David thought there might be something romantic in that but knew it was just biology. Bodies needed oxygen and they had been depriving theirs of it for several hours now.

They sat there for several minutes while they pulled themselves back together. David almost thought he could fall asleep like this, despite the cold tiles and the water still falling all around them and the t-shirt clinging uncomfortably to his chest. He kissed Rafa’s temple. “Was that what you wanted?”

Rafa laughed quietly. “That was – Christ, Ferru, that was –” He laughed again. “Yes. That was what I wanted.” David nodded. He ran his fingers over Rafa’s shoulders and back, tracing long red marks, lingering over blossoming bruises. He hadn’t realised.

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

Rafa shook his head. “No,” he said, quietly and firmly. “No. Don’t ever apologise. Not for any of it. I told you.” David remembered their hug at the net. It seemed a long time ago now. Remembered apologising, remembered Rafa shaking his head at him and smiling. “There is nothing to apologise for,” he had said. “I told you to beat me. And you beat me. If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t have asked.”

David had a thousand questions, not least of which was ‘Why would you want someone to beat you?’ He could ask them now, as they held each other and the water hid them from curious ears and all the years and all the matches hung unspoken between them. Instead he stood up, stretching to ease the kinks in his back and legs. He rubbed the back of his head. “Ow. I think I may have given myself a concussion.”

Rafa looked up at him from where he still sat on the floor. “Maybe something softer next time.”

David smiled at him and held out his hand. “Maybe.” He pulled Rafa up off the ground and they set about washing all traces of sweat and clay and semen off each other, despite the fact that they had been in the shower so long their skin was turning wrinkly and all traces of physical activity had long since been washed away.


End file.
